They have lived together for 71 years but their love for each other remains as tender as it was during their first days of marriage.
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| Mr. Nguyen Van Nhac and Mrs. Nguyen Thi Phuong |
Nguyen Van Nhac, 111, who has lived through three different centuries, and his wife Nguyen Thi Phuong, 88, live in a small hut in Long Tan in Dong Nai province’s Nhon Trach district.
Their life is the stuff of folklore.
He was born in a very poor peasant family and had to toil so hard all year round to make a living that he never had a chance to look for a mate until he was 40.
It was when he was hired to work for a rich landowner that his destiny changed.
As peasants usually sing back and forth while working on the fields to keep up their spirits and overcome fatigue, when Nhac was attracted to a dainty, hard-working girl with a beautiful voice, he sang to her: “I wish I was a bat, to fly and then lie down by your side!”
He did not expect the girl to sing to him in return and so was very surprised to hear her singing in reply: “I wish I was a caterpillar, to climb and then nestle on your collar!”
The girl was Phuong, just turning 17 and a daughter of the family he was working for.
She fell in love with his warm nature, and encouraged him to ask her parents for her hand. But they were landlords and he was a poor laborer -- the gap in their social status and wealth was too big to ignore, so they refused.
The couple then staged a kidnap drama to force her parents to agree. This was in 1940.
They were poor and never had as much as two cents to rub together. Nevertheless, their life was very happy as the rich girl learnt to adapt to the new circumstances of her husband’s family. Phuong proved to be a caring and loving wife to her husband.
In 1943, when he fought in the war against the French, she took care of all the housework on her own.
In 1957, Nhac was captured by the South Vietnam government and incarcerated in Phu Loi prison (Binh Duong province). During his four years in jail, Phuong’s life was busy with work to earn money for the family and to visit him in prison. By the time he was released, the torture he had undergone in prison had taken its toll. He was now reduced to a walking skeleton and afflicted with all kinds of illnesses. Yet, with her loving care, he was slowly nursed back to health.
As members of the Viet Minh, the couple had to move around to avoid harassment before finally returning to their hometown with empty hands when peace was restored.
“During our life together, I could only bring her a few happy days,” Nhac admits.
“Despite working hard for years, I was unable to build a decent house for her to live in. But she has never blamed me for that, and her love has never wavered,” he says with a fond look at his wife.
She strokes him on his back and says: “He’s poor, for sure, but he gives me everything he has, including his sincere love.
“For 71 years, except for the time he was in jail, he has always taken care of me. He never raises his voice against me. Even now he always fetches water for me when I want to take a bath. We don’t have kids, so he always stays close to me to keep me company so I won’t feel sad.”
For dozens of years they lived in a rundown cottage that did not even have a door because “we have nothing for others to steal.” They had neither electricity nor a restroom but the cottage was clearly filled with love and affection.
Nhac and his wife are regarded as a walking encyclopedia of rice-paddy folk songs. They become animated when the talk turns to songs and singing. He sings a line and she sings one in return.
“When I was young, he and I could sing to each other all day,” Phuong recalls.
“Other boys and girls in the village would willingly do our jobs so that we sang for them.”
During the Lunar New Year last year the head of Dong Nai province’s Commission for Ideology visited Nhac and Phuong and instructed the local utilities company to connect their house to the main grid and even gave them a house.
It was the first time they ever had electricity in the house and Nhac was so happy that he told everyone about it.
“A few days ago we were offered a pair of red ao dai. When I saw those presents I just wanted to give her a second wedding ceremony. I didn’t have a chance to wear such beautiful costumes and live in such a beautiful house when I married her.”
Nguyen Van Hung, the head of the Vietnamese Fatherland Front, says locals are very proud of Nhac’s family, regarding them as a symbol of conjugal fulfillment and love.
Though Nhac’s health has deteriorated in recent months, he remains optimistic and we part with his promise: “I just remembered some folk songs. When I get better I’ll sing them for everyone.”
(Source: Tuoitrenews)
